


Cupid versus Ben Solo

by ReyloBrit



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Food, Humor, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloBrit/pseuds/ReyloBrit
Summary: How Cupid failed and failed again to shoot Ben Solo's closely guarded heart with an arrow of love, until finally....
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 20
Kudos: 128
Collections: Solo Love Letters





	Cupid versus Ben Solo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [here4thereylo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/here4thereylo/gifts).



> 💘 Happy Valentine's Day Reylos - and Happy Belated Birthday Brownie! 💘

In his lifetime, Cupid, the God of Amor, had been responsible for some of the greatest love stories ever known - Anthony and Cleopatra, Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal, Napoleon and Josephine, John Smith and Pocahontas. The Deity, though little, had melted the frozen hearts of many great men, warriors and scholars alike, had turned enemies into lovers, and cynics into poets.

And yet, despite his great skill, despite his millenia of experience, in the 31 years of Ben Solo's life, Cupid had failed to score a direct hit on the man’s closely guarded heart - although there’d been plenty of opportunities to do so. Each time such an occasion had presented, Cupid had swooped down from the Heavens, bow in hand, fingers steadying his arrow as he held back the taut string, ready to fire, and every time that sneaky, that slippery, Ben Solo had swerved or dodged or dived right at the moment of the weapon's release. So far Cupid had wasted exactly five arrows on Ben Solo - nearly more than anyone else in the thousands and thousands of years he had been hard at work. And Cupid did not like to waste his magical darts.

There had been the time a young Ben Solo had been paired for a high school project with a cute little blond who had big eyes and braced teeth. Studying together in her mother's kitchen, Cupid had snuck through the tiny flap in the kitchen door used by the family's pet, and tiptoed up on the two while their heads were bent over books. But as his missile whizzed through the air, that dastardly Ben Solo had ducked under the table to retrieve a fallen pencil, and instead of Ben Solo's heart, the arrow had struck a sleeping feline on the countertop behind. The cat fell into an instant heat, following Ben home and wailing and meowing outside his window for a solid week. (Ben had detested cats ever since.)

When Ben's English teacher had perched on her desk, dressed in a short skirt, her long legs crossed in front of her, and read a particularly sensual passage from a novel, Cupid had slipped into the classroom unnoticed, thinking that a crush on an older woman was a right of passage for every lustful teen. Of course, that cursed Ben Solo had dodged him again, leaning over to whisper in a classmate's ears as Cupid's arrow brushed over his shoulder and sailed out of the classroom window, hitting the elderly groundsman, a sworn bachelor, instead. The next week the man had shacked up with the school secretary, a woman who had long ago resigned herself to a life of spinsterhood.

Then there was the time in college when Ben had stayed up late discussing life and death and everything in between with the girlfriend of his lab partner, Hux. Cupid, still embittered from his previous encounters with Ben Solo, had been particularly keen to make this strike. A little taste of unrequited love and the guilt of lusting after his pal's girl would be a satisfying revenge. Alas, Cupid had been out of luck again, and at the moment the arrow left his fingers the door of the room had flung back and Ben had toppled over in alarm. The arrow flew straight over his head, rebounded off the wall and struck his friend as he marched into the room. Subsequently, the friend had dumped his girlfriend and professed his undying love for Ben. Their friendship had fizzled out after that.

And so Cupid had rubbed his hands with glee when one day in the late Summer of 2019, Ben's roommate had moved out and a new one had moved in. Ben had woken to the sound of a key swivelling in the lock on that warm Saturday morning and found Rey standing in the hallway, a little breathless, her cheeks rosy, strands of her chestnut hair escaping her bun and tumbling into her eyes, her arms full of a tower of boxes balanced precariously one on top of another. When she spotted him emerging bleary eyed from his bedroom, she'd blown furiously at the strands covering her eyes, then given up and smiled widely at him with bright hazel eyes, raising her knee to help her steady her load and free a hand that she shifted in his direction.

"Hi," she giggled as the boxes and her body swayed momentarily before she righted them both. "You must be Ben. I'm Rey."

Cupid lurking in the shadows of that hallway, took his opportunity. Ben Solo would not slip through his fingers for a sixth time. With haste, he grabbed an arrow from his quiver, lined up the shot, one eye screwed shut as he peered down the length of the carefully crafted weapon, his tongue caught between his teeth and his nose wrinkled in concentration. Then, as Ben stepped forward to shake Rey's hand, somewhat cautiously, Cupid lifted his forefinger and thumb and the arrow burst from the bow, shooting through the fresh morning air and slicing straight between Ben Solo's ribs, lodging directly in his untouched heart.

Cupid reached his hand behind him for another missile in his quiver, then stopped. It would be easy to strike the woman too in this moment of their initial meeting and for them to fall hopelessly and desperately in love at first sight. But Cupid, if truth be told, had seen millions and millions of people of all shapes and sizes fall in love and sometimes it was all too easy and all too boring. Sometimes, like the writer of any great romance novel or play, he enjoyed, on occasion, drawing the story out, to make his actors suffer before their inevitable happy ending. And so Cupid lowered his arm, and for the time being he left Rey's heart her own, returning to the Heavens with a satisfied smirk and another heart claimed. 

As it turned out, Cupid could not have found a more suitable target for his viewing entertainment. For the tall, dark and dashing Ben Solo always so suave, always so self assured, when in the throws of love, turned out to be a stumbling and stuttering, blumbering and blushing wreck, trailing after the object of his affection with puppy dog eyes and a dejected expression.

Unfortunately for Ben, Rey proved to be a modest soul who had blossomed into her good looks - radiant smile, delicate cheekbones and slim figure - in her early twenties and had not an inkling that the handsome sullen man with whom she shared an apartment, who seldom muttered more than a grunt in her presence, could possibly like her. And without an arrow from Cupid, it can take that nudge of suspicion that someone might care for you to break through the carefully erected wall around a scarred and fragile heart and allow love to bloom.

Not that Cupid had been without his opportunities to give Ben what he most desired. He had just refused to be hurried about doing it. Taking his time to retrieve an arrow, position the weapon and line up the shot, enjoying too much Ben's feeble attempts to woo his woman. 

So when Rey had come home one night with some weed and smoked it with Ben on the sofa, both edging closer and closer together until eventually she'd snuggled into him completely, her head resting on his broad shoulder; Cupid had seen with amusement the way Ben's arm hovered in the air and failed to wrap around her. By the time the immortal being had stopped sniggering and concentrated on the work at hand, Rey was snoring softly and the moment had passed.

He'd enjoyed observing the awkwardness with which Ben had comforted a sobbing and hiccupping Rey about the passing of her goldfish BB8. As Ben had held her against his chest and rubbed his hands up and down her back, rocking and shushing her softly, Cupid had guffawed at the pangs of jealousy Ben had felt towards the much loved, now departed, fish, and missed his shot when Ben was sent to deal with the corpse.

The closest he'd come to striking Rey's heart had occurred the time Ben had slunk out of the bathroom, freshly showered, gleaming wet, a towel wrapped around his muscular torso and bumped straight into Rey. The electricity had crackled in the space between them and Cupid had watched with expectation as Rey had blushed profusely, her eyes seemingly unable to stop from flitting to Ben's impressive pecs. The arrow had been ready in his bow but then a phone had rung from a bedroom, the spell had broken and Rey had scuttled away.

Today, however, was Valentine's Day, and on this most auspicious of days, the increasingly cynical Cupid was drunk on love. Usually so carefully guarded with his precious arrows, hating to squander a single one, on this day, delirious and delighted, he was happy to fire scores after scores of arrows high up into the bright blue sky and let them fall at random, scattering on the Earth below and hitting all around.

And on this day, he resigned to finally, after six months of pining, put Ben Solo out of his misery. Heck, he'd do it happily.

….

Valentine's Day 2020

Ben Solo was madly, ridiculously, head over heels in love with his roommate Rey Nobody. He had been from the moment he set eyes on her six months ago. Having never been in love before, despite being the grand old age of 31, he had not the faintest clue what to do about it. Feeling more and more like a pathetic fool with every that passed, and as January merged into February, he'd determined that Valentine's Day would be the day he would finally confess his feelings to her.

But how to do it? He'd considered asking his mother for advice but quickly dismissed the idea, knowing the woman, so clearly desperate for Grandchildren, would spiral quickly into giddy and unhelpful excitement and expectation. He'd thought about his old friend Poe, a successful and serial seducer of both men and women, but he'd decided against alerting Poe to the existence of the very attractive piece of ass living in his apartment. Finally, he landed where all people in search of wise words and wisdom wash up: Google. Most of the ideas there involved grand, dramatic gestures that he was pretty sure would have Rey running, terrified, in the opposite direction.

In the end, he'd concluded that the surest way to Rey's heart was through her stomach. The woman, although always hungry, was a completely useless chef, capable of burning every thing she tried to cook. On the occasions they were home together at dinnertime, she would hover about him as he made his meal, begging for scraps, her mouth watering at the sight of his food.

On Valentine's evening, he was already hard at work in the kitchen when she returned from her shift at the public library. He heard a clatter from the hallway as she kicked off her boots and then a loud moan.

"Ben," she yelled as she skipped into the kitchen, "that smells incredible - what you cooking?"

"Pasta with my Grandma's secret sauce. Wanna try?"

"Uh huh," she trotted around to his side and lifted her chin as he held a wooden spoon to her lips, and tipped rich tomato sauce into her mouth. She closed her eyes "Hmmmmm," she sighed, gazing back up at him and then towards the stove. "What's in the other pot?"

"Never you mind."

"Humf."

"You got plans tonight or you want some?" he asked, trying his very best to act casual and nonplussed.

"I want some if it's ready soon. I'm going to some singles event at Galaxy's with Rose tonight."

"It'll be ready soon. You've got time." There was no way he was letting her escape to some bar where there'd be dozens of sleazy men hoping to snatch her up.

"I'd better go get changed."

"Nope," he snapped, not keen for her to change out of the figure hugging dress she was wearing. "I'm serving up in five. Why don't you make the salad? Think you can manage that?"

She rolled her eyes, "Just about," and set to chopping.

If Rey was a little surprised and confused by the presence of a tablecloth and a candle at their usually bare table, she didn't show it. Nor did she comment when he opened a bottle of her favourite wine and poured her a glass. Perhaps she was too captivated by her meal which she wolfed down with her usual hurried speed.

"One day you are going to make yourself sick, or choke." Ben said several mouthfuls away from finishing himself.

"I can't help it." She rested back in her chair and rubbed her tummy with satisfaction. "If you didn't eat quick where I grew up, you didn't get fed, and old habits die hard."

He scrubbed his hand over his face. Rey had grown up in the care system, and these little glimpses of her previous life only made him more determined to make her happy. "Got room for dessert?" He lowered his cutlery and reached over to take her empty plate.

"Dessert? What is it?"

"A surprise."

"You know I can't say no."

"I'm not forcing you…"

"Yes, of course I want dessert, Ben."

"Now?"

"Now. Stop teasing me," she said with a little pout he found adorable.

"I like teasing you," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

After stacking the plates in the dishwasher in just the particular manner he liked, he then fetched a large bowl from the fridge and a tub of ice cream from the freezer.

"Fruit?" Rey said with clear disappointment as she peered into the bowl at the neatly cut up pieces arranged in colourful rings.

"Wait!" Ben returned to the stove and came back with the mystery saucepan, placing it on a mat on the table between them and lifting the lid with a flourish. "Chocolate sauce."

Rey leaned forward and dipped a little finger into the smooth brown liquid, then sucked the molten chocolate from her finger. Again she closed her eyes. "Wow."

"Good?"

"Amazing!"

"Here." He passed her a fork and with his own skewered a slice of banana and plunged it into the warm sauce, before scooping it out and into his mouth.

Rey followed suit. "How can anything so simple taste so good?"

"You know how you can make it taste even better"

"How?"

"Close your eyes."

Rey raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously, but he ignored this and scooted his chair next to hers.

"Close your eyes," he repeated and she huffed dramatically but did as he said.

Ben picked up a strawberry, plunged it in the chocolate, and lifted it to Rey's lips, his arm trembling slightly. He edged it closer, taking advantage of his proximity to examine the curve of her pink lips.

"Ben?" She peeped at him through her long lashes and he swerved his hand, swiping her nose with the strawberry and leaving a large smudge of chocolate. "Hey!" she squealed.

"No peeking."

"I wasn't." She grabbed her napkin and rubbed at her nose.

"Yes, you were," he laughed as she thrust out her bottom lip. "You always cheat - at every game we play."

"I do not!" 

He frowned at her and gave her a hard look.

"Well...maybe...a little," she whispered, with a coy grin.

"In that case…." He popped the strawberry into his own mouth, jumped up from the table and disappeared down the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

"Hang on," he called from his room and returned a moment later with a sleep mask he'd been given on a recent flight, carefully sliding it over her eyes. 

With a deep inhale as he gazed down on her blindfolded beneath him, he sat back on his seat and selected another piece from the bowl.

"Ready?" His voice was husky as his hand wavered in front of her mouth, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

She nodded, a blush forming across her cheeks, barely perceivable.

Delicately, he swept the fruit across her bottom lip. She tilted forward attempting to capture the food in her teeth, and he snatched it away. She sighed and ran her tongue along her lip. "You promised me dessert."

"Be patient." Ben rested the food on her lip and she sunk her teeth into it. 

"Mmmm melon."

"And this?" he asked, selecting a different one and holding it to her mouth. This time she snapped at it, narrowly missing his fingers, juice spilling down her chin as she cut through the skin.

"Grape." She lifted her hand to wipe at her chin and he caught it, mopping the liquid himself with her napkin.

"Correct." 

She smiled at him.

"And this one?" Again he smeared chocolate across her lips. Then he paused, before bowing down towards her until his own lips grazed hers. 

She stilled. "I didn't get a proper taste."

"No?" he whispered.

"No - more please."

Ben, trembling, pressed his mouth against hers and swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, scooping up the sauce and tasting chocolate as it melted into his mouth. She moved her mouth over his, opening her lips and inviting him in, letting him kiss first her bottom lip between his and then her upper, her breath fluttering as he slid his tongue into her mouth. He cupped her cheek, let his fingers skate over her smooth skin and his thumb stroke the line of her jaw.

She tasted and felt as good as he'd always imagined.

If Ben had believed in such myths as Cupid, he'd have guessed that the moment Rey was struck by an arrow of love, was the moment she whipped back the blindfold and looked quizzically into Ben's dark eyes, her features melting, her hands reaching for him and a wide smile spreading across her face, recognizing the love reflected there.

Later, as Ben sucked chocolate off her pert little tits while she rode him, the cheeks of her ass fitting perfectly into his hands, her sweet moans and the way her eyelids flickered and her chest flushed when she came driving him wild; he could've sworn he heard the flutter of wings and a hum of satisfaction that was neither hers nor his own.


End file.
